


Monsters

by entanglednow



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-24
Updated: 2009-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-25 16:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You think I'm a monster?" Sylar asks, warm, conversational.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters

The shift of sheet across his skin wakes Mohinder. For a single instant he thinks he's pulled it himself, twisting in his restless sleep. But it's nothing so simple, the sheet becomes a sliding line of white, that looks dragged by an unseen hand. Slow and endless down his chest and hips, trailing lightly down his legs to flutter off the end of the bed.

"Sylar." It's more breath than question. He pulls his legs out of the reach of...nothingness, presses back against the headboard in one long slow movement.

"Will it always be me?"

A voice without a face, but one he knows far too well, coming from everywhere and nowhere, and the wall at Mohinder's back feels like no defence at all.

"The monster in the dark, will it always be me?" There's a curious tilt to the words, threat running underneath them, in a way it always seems to. "Will it always wear my face do you think, am I the very limit of what you're afraid of? That seems fitting somehow."

Mohinder slithers sideways, feet on the floor, his hand moves across the table, searching for something, _anything_ to defend himself with. Fury has been enough before, Sylar has never learnt better than a haphazard childish restraint.

He slips across the room, finds hollow patches of darkness, trusts none of them.

"I don't know how people can see what they could be, what they could be capable of, and not reach out and take it."

Real hands, flesh and blood, catch Mohinder's waist and he inhales sharply, surprise pulling both hands up. Sylar catches both his wrists, pushes against his back, cold skin and rough edges, breath a shudder across Mohinder's cheek and everything is suddenly real. The cold edges of Sylar's coat, the rough edge of his jaw, boots on the chilled floor and the smell of outside, dragged in and unwelcome.

Mohinder tenses, unwilling to go easily, and all the breath is crushed out of him in one warning squeeze, a tightening that says Sylar could crush him, crack him in two, and the only thing stopping him is his stillness. Mohinder holds on to his tension for one long breathless moment, and then relaxes.

"I could break you into pieces," Sylar says softly. "Make you nothing like you are now. Make you something new, make you something _better,_ and you'd still fight it. I can't decide what that makes you."

"It makes me human...which is more than I can say for you." Mohinder tests the hold on his left wrist, regrets it in one short pained noise a second later. Sylar leans close enough that the cold edge of his cheek presses against Mohinder's ear, rests there, breath shifting his hair.

"You think I'm a monster?" Sylar asks, warm, conversational.

Sylar has never cared for rules, shedding a different skin every day, changing, growing, and there is nothing good at the end of that road, nothing at all.

"I think you're a mistake."

Sylar tuts at him, three long noises and then a tilt of head, and a press that's intimate enough for Mohinder to immediately shift his head away.

"I can put you back together, or I can leave you in pieces, it's your decision, it's always been your decision." Sylar's fingers slide free, leaving the pain echo of their hold that fades just as quickly.

Mohinder turns on bare feet.

But Sylar is already gone.


End file.
